A Little Help (2010)

A despairing Jenna Fischer, in "A Little Help"

Laura Pehlke isn't happy. She isn't miserable, either. Just not nearly as content as she'd prefer. Her life is littered with too much of the stuff that causes stress, and not enough kindness, compassion, recognition and joy. Most of us have, at one time or another, probably felt the same. 

Set just after the 9/11 disaster, "A Little Help" (written and directed by Michael J Weithorn) is an honest, intimate film, about how people handle the small, and not-so-small, difficulties of life. 

Laura's life hasn't become what she hoped. An early-30-something, NY-area dental assistant, Laura (played by the adorable Jenna Fischer, from the American-TV version of "The Office") is both likable, and flawed. Her cheerful-yet-perfunctory small talk with patients doesn't hide that she's largely unsatisfied with her job. An office parrot (?), who's presence is intended to be "soothing," instead ironically uses its vocal abilities to essentially heckle her daily (this isn't as wacky as it might sound). 

In addition, Laura's marriage has lost its lustre. Unappreciated by her husband Bob (Chris O'Donnell), who regularly makes suspicious excuses to work late, she enjoys canned Budweiser too much. The couple hasn't has sex since they-can't-remember when. Irritated and impatient with her, Bob reacts with condescension, constantly searching for reasons to criticize. Her rebellious, sullen, early-teenage son Dennis (Daniel Yelsky) only makes matters worse. He won't sing in the car with her, like he used to. Her attempts to be his pal fall on deaf ears, and are met with scorn. Like most parents of teenagers, Laura can't seem to do much right, where he's concerned.  

The rest of her family provides little relief. After subtle yet unmistakably reminders that she's a disappointment, Laura has become understandably defensive and combative with her mother (Lesley Ann Warren) and sister Kathy (Brooke Smith). She's unable to resist petty family squabbles. Like Kathy, her mother is prone to offering Laura frequent, unsolicited, well-meaning-but-misguided "problem-with-you" speeches. Fond of his daughter but intentionally distracted, Laura's dad (Ron Leibman) endlessly rehashes stories of his many brushes with famous athletes, from back when he was a sports writer. He is affectionate, but often rambling, and ultimately distant. He seems afraid of what might follow, should the emotional can-of-worms ever open. 

Though smart, resourceful and attractive, (the latter explained away by the less-pretty-but-successful, "very organized" Kathy as nothing more than "just luck"), Laura's unsatisfied by most of her life. 

Between these minefields, Laura often wonders "where did it all go wrong?", and "what might've been..." 

When she suffers unexpected tragedy, each family member has their own idea of how Laura should best proceed. All without so much as talking with her even briefly about the ordeal. Eager to please, she usually tries to play along. However, this neither the most helpful, nor healthiest, support system she can imagine. 

The only one who seems to truly recognize the depth of Laura's unhappiness is her brother-in-law Paul. Now married to Kathy, and with teenage twins, Paul went to high school with Laura, years ago. The two share a bond we sense has grown over time. He clearly admires Laura more than her own husband does. We see both Paul and Laura navigating marriage and parenthood as best that can, knowing they haven't made the best choices along the way, each realizing with hindsight that neither endeavor is going as well as they'd like. In one touching scene, the pair escape a family cook out, and share a joint in the backyard gazebo. High, with normal guards down, they confess embarrassing regrets with a trusting, familiar tone of mutual fondness. Maybe too trusting? He cheers her up by lamenting failures in his own life, with a self-deprecating charm. Paul is sympathetic about her unhappiness and, unlike the rest of the family, genuinely seeks to help her, on her terms. Theirs is a connection the rest of the family members lack. 

Later in the film, against her better judgment, Laura acquiesces to pursuing a lawsuit she'd rather not. Upon this backdrop, her stress begins to grow. She endures the frequent petty barbs from her mother and sister, continued rejection by her son, a constantly-barking neighbor dog, financial strain, and mounting loneliness. Her rising anxiety is palpable, inching towards the breaking point over the film's 109 minutes.  

"A Little Help" is a gentle movie, filled with winning performances. It largely steers clear of the tempting cliches, and easy answers, that fill too many lesser films. Its success is largely due to Fischer's empathic portrayal of Laura. Though saddled with a family that works against her, and a son who continuously pushes her away, angrily calls her "a loser" via email, and invents a lie she's pressed in to perpetuating, she refuses to give up. This put-upon mom conscientiously, and courageously, struggles on.

The Pehlkes aren't vindictive, contemptible people, merely (like most of us) too easily self-absorbed, and distracted by life's responsibilities. Despite all their differences, judgments, and dysfunction, they honestly care about one another. However, for whatever reason, they simply don't possess the emotional equipment to clearly express that caring. Which cultivates resentment. Their predicament recalls a passage from the terrific 1992 Robert Redford film "A River Run's Through It": 

"Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one who is in need, and ask the same question: We are willing to help, Lord, but what, if anything, is needed? For it is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted. And so it those we live with and should know, who elude us. But we can still love them - we can love completely, without complete understanding."